Rave On Figgis Agency
by Red Witch
Summary: The never ending quest of the Figgis Agency to make money takes some weird and highly illegal turns.


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters has gone to a party. This takes place right after Woodhouse's Funeral. Somehow life must go on, without Archer. So…**

 **Rave On Figgis Agency**

"It was a lovely service," Lana admitted as the majority of the Figgis Agency congregated in the bullpen the day after Woodhouse's funeral.

"And a hell of a reception," Pam said as she poured some scotch into her coffee.

"Yeah thanks for loading up my daughter with cake," Lana looked at them.

"You're welcome," Cheryl giggled.

"Ms. Archer's still at the hospital huh?" Pam asked.

"She's a wreck," Lana sighed. "I think Woodhouse's death really threw her for a loop. She won't even leave Archer's side now."

"Well its not like she has someone to go home to," Cheryl added. "Now that she and Ron are broken up."

"Separated," Krieger told her. "There's a difference."

"Not that much of a difference," Cheryl shrugged.

"Look, obviously we can't count on Archer waking up anytime soon," Cyril sighed. "Not that we could count on him much when he was conscious in the **first place…** And since Ms. Archer is clearly not in any state to do anything…"

"Not that she ever **was** in a state to do anything," Cheryl added.

"That's **you,** Cheryl!" Lana barked.

"My point is…" Cyril went on. "We need to think of ideas to make money."

"We've been thinking of ideas ever since we started this damn agency!" Pam snapped.

"And we'll keep on thinking until we get it **right!** " Cyril told her. "Does anyone have **any** ideas on how to make money? Because clearly, we're **not** going to get any clients anytime soon! Anyone? Anything? I'm desperate here!"

"We knew that the day we first met you," Ray quipped.

"Just help me come up with an idea before we all end up on the street!" Cyril snapped. "Anyone!"

"I've been running an illegal offshore gambling website," Krieger waved. "I've made about twenty-five grand in just two weeks."

"Poker?" Cyril asked. "Horse racing?"

"Pokémon battles," Krieger told him.

"I can't believe that's a thing," Lana blinked.

"That is so a thing," Pam nodded. "Especially with illegal fan made Pokémon. Some of which, admittedly look better than some of the **real** Pokémon."

"I believe that," Ray admitted.

"However, the bad news is that all the money is in Kriegerands," Krieger said. "As soon as a country recognizes that currency we're good!"

"Yes, well I'm looking for money that's **real** and not **digital,** " Cyril snapped.

"How about recycling?" Cheryl asked. "We can go around picking up cans and bottles and turn them in for money."

"As much as I would love to help the environment," Lana sighed. "That won't help us much."

"Why not?" Cheryl asked. "I mean you get like what? A dollar per can?"

"Try a nickel," Ray told her.

"You'd be lucky if you get a dollar for a bag of cans," Pam said. "Trust me on this. I've tried drinking enough to pay for beer. The math doesn't work out."

"You would know," Ray nodded.

"I **didn't** know!" Pam said. "That's how I ended up with a hangover and only a dollar twenty-five for my trouble! I've made more than that stealing from tampon machines."

"So? We like steal a ton of cans to make money," Cheryl said.

"Where the hell are we gonna steal enough cans to make money?" Pam asked. "Raid a Budweiser factory?"

"Lana you're the one who's always going on and on about new ideas," Cyril turned to her. "What ones do **you** have?"

"This should be good," Cheryl scoffed.

"I've come up with plenty new ideas!" Lana barked.

"Yeah right," Pam snorted.

"I have!" Lana said. "It's just that no one ever listens to me!"

"Well we're listening **now!** " Cyril snapped. "Go ahead Lana! The floor is yours!"

"Uh…" Lana paused.

"Come on Lana," Ray said.

"We're waiting," Cheryl mocked. "I knew it. She's got nothing."

"Shocker," Krieger remarked.

"I didn't know I was going to be put on the spot!" Lana protested. "If I had I would have prepared something! Hang on…I've got it! Investments! We invest in either real estate or a business…"

"Like Ms. Archer did?" Pam scoffed. "We all know how those went!"

"Nothing like Mallory!" Lana barked. "We actually take time to research and find out what investment is best for us! We could buy a house cheap and flip it. Or invest in one of Cheryl's businesses or…"

"And where the hell are we going to get the money for these investments Lana?" Cyril snapped.

"We-ll," Krieger drawled. "Technically we already have some money squirreled away for investments."

"Kriegerands aren't a **thing!** " Cyril snapped.

"Not **that,** " Krieger said. "But yes, they will be someday. I was talking about the money Pam, Ray and I made…"

"Don't you **dare!"** Ray shouted.

"KRIEGER!" Pam said at the same time.

"Shut up!" Krieger said. "Pam, Ray and I made some money. Which we all agreed we'd give a share to the agency!"

"We didn't agree on _when,_ " Ray told him.

"Yeah ten thousand dollars is a lot of scratch even…" Pam began.

"HANG ON!" Lana barked.

"WHAT?" Cyril said at the same time.

"Is that a lot?" Cheryl blinked. "I'm seriously asking."

" **Ten thousand dollars?"** Cyril shouted. "You three made the agency _ten thousand_ _dollars?_ When were you going to tell me this?"

"We're telling you now," Krieger said honestly.

"How did you three make ten thousand dollars?" Lana asked.

"Uhhhh…." Pam, Ray and Krieger looked at each other.

FLASHBACK!

"Ladies and Gentlemen…" Krieger was wearing his lab coat and sunglasses. "Let's turn this mother out!"

He then began playing a huge DJ/turntable set. Multicolored lights and strobes went everywhere as loud techno music blared. There was a huge crowd of people wearing wild clothes and glow stick jewelry in the garage of the Figgis Agency dancing around wildly.

"Oh man," Pam whooped. She was wearing green glow body paint as well as some hip punk clothes. "This rave is da bomb!"

"Great idea having a secret one-night rave in the garage," Ray had pink glow body paint on as well as hip 80's style clothes. "At thirty bucks a head we're making a fortune."

"Yeah but the overhead for alcohol and glow sticks was more than I thought," Pam shrugged. "Good thing I brought in an opening act."

"OH YEAH! PARTY! PARTY!" Cheryl was wearing blue and green glow paint and very scantly clad clothing as she danced around on a platform.

"Why is **she** here?" Ray asked.

"You know she doesn't like being left out," Pam waved. "Relax, she's not taking any profits. In fact, she paid me so she could be the headlining act!"

"How much?" Ray asked.

"Forty grand," Pam said. "We'll give ten of it to Cyril if he finds out and whines about it."

"Which he probably will," Ray said. "Oh, I love this song!"

"Me too!" Pam whooped. They started to dance wildly to the music.

FLASHFORWARD!

"E-Bay," Pam said quickly.

"Sold some things online," Ray added.

"Yup, yup, yup…" Krieger nodded.

"We definitely did **not** hold a one-night rave in our garage," Cheryl added. The others looked at her. "What? I said we **didn't** hold a rave."

"Oh my God," Lana realized something. "That explains the glow sticks I ran over."

"And the glow in the dark body paint all over the pavement," Cyril realized. "How much did you idiots make?"

"Well…" Krieger paused. "Not as much as we thought we would. When you consider the cost of alcohol and cleanup…"

"Glow sticks aren't cheap," Pam said.

"Yes, they are!" Cyril snapped.

"Not if you buy ten thousand of them at the same time!" Pam said. "In bulk!"

"We have ten grand to give the agency," Ray said.

"I'll take it," Cyril sighed.

"Maybe we should try party planning?" Ray suggested. "This town is full of people who want to throw parties. We're good at throwing parties…"

"Good?" Pam laughed. "We've thrown bitching parties without even trying!"

"How did you throw **that party** without anyone knowing about it?" Lana asked.

"One night raves are easy to throw," Pam waved. "Just put up a few flyers in a few bathroom stalls in some clubs and wham! People will come!"

"They're also illegal," Lana said.

"She said as if it mattered," Cheryl mocked.

"That's where the **one-night** part comes in," Pam told Lana. "It's gonna be at least three months before we can hold another rave in the garage."

"Why the garage?" Cyril asked.

"Easier to clean," Ray said. "Plenty of space. Less damage."

"Okay so we just have to throw another party in another place that's at least somewhat legal," Cyril thought aloud.

"We could throw a cannabis food party," Krieger said. "With a piñata filled with candy infused with cannabis."

"And that's where the **somewhat legal** part comes in," Lana groaned.

"It's totally legal in California," Pam said. "And you know? As long as you don't advertise."

"Couple things," Cyril sighed. "Number one, where would we get the marijuana in the first place?"

Everyone looked at Krieger. "What? Since when is gardening a crime?" He asked.

"Depends on what you garden in what state," Cyril sighed. "But I'm going to assume you do have a supply of pot."

"You assume correctly," Krieger grinned. "I've also been making my own cannabis candy brand."

"Besides the groovy bears you give me?" Cheryl asked.

"I call it Krieger Kandy," Krieger grinned.

"Of course, you do," Cyril sighed. "On the other hand…That could also be a halfway decent business making and selling cannabis candy…"

"In other words, we're going back into the drug business," Lana groaned. "If we can come up with a party…"

"Which we can cater," Ray added. "I can bartend and serve drinks. Krieger makes his candy. Pam can cook the food!"

"I can make some kick ass pot stickers with real pot," Pam told them. "Street tacos that are barely street legal. Dim Sum with some doobie…"

"We **get it!"** Lana interrupted. "And where the hell are we going to hold this party? Fantasy Island?"

"I think that would cost too much," Cheryl blinked. "What with the plane tickets and the hotel rates. And honestly I don't want to run into that Tattoo guy."

"Let's just hold it at one of the dozens of buildings you own," Ray suggested.

"That would save me from hanging out with a creepy dwarf," Cheryl said. "Tunt Real Estates have a ton of foreclosed homes in Malibu. I'll just pick one of them."

"And last but not least," Cyril sighed. "Who the hell would we invite to this party?"

"Well not the cops obviously," Krieger nodded.

"That would be a good idea," Cyril said sarcastically.

"I know some people who publish their own Cannabis magazine," Krieger said. "Help get the buzz out. Get it?"

"That's what I'm afraid of," Cyril sighed. "That we will **get it."**

"I know a couple of people from a few bars I go to," Ray spoke up. "I know they won't snitch."

"Same here," Pam said. "I can dig up a few people."

"That's a start," Cyril said. "What we really need are some high-end customers. I don't suppose you know any Cheryl?"

"Why are you asking **her?"** Lana barked.

"Because Lana you're not a freaking billionaire!" Pam snapped. "Cheryl, can you get in contact with anyone with real cash that might come to this party?"

"No, but my cousin Celestina does," Cheryl said as she took a book out of her purse. "And I just happen to have her address book."

"How do you have your cousin's address book?" Cyril blinked.

"Do you really want to know the answer to **that question**?" Cheryl asked. "Because technically it involves two felonies."

"I do not," Cyril said. "Do Celestina's friends know you or…?"

"Honestly the only way these people couldn't tell the difference between me and Celestina even if we wore name tags," Cheryl scoffed. "A lot of society bitches just hang on to the Tunt name like remoras. All I have to do is wear a pretty dress and throw out a few French words and they wouldn't know the difference. Or care."

"What about your cousin Celestina?" Lana asked. "Won't she care?"

"That's the best part," Cheryl giggled. "She died **seven years ago**! And because of her shocking death, my family told no one!"

"WHAT?" Everyone shouted.

"Yeah, they made up this bullshit about her moving to a convent to hide the fact that she tried to be a drug lord," Cheryl waved. "And got shot seventeen times by the mayor's wife of this small Italian town when she caught them together in bed. With a sheep."

"Sweet Jesus," Ray gulped.

"Plus, there's this clause in her will saying if she died this winery she owns and all her lands would revert to this town in France," Cheryl went on. "And a lot of other places. So basically everybody in my family just makes up stories of her moving all over Europe and occasionally pretends to be her on the phone so they can keep all her stuff."

"Just when I think your family can't shock me even more," Ray groaned. "It does…"

"If anyone asks she's not dead," Cheryl waved. "In fact, I can't totally pretend to be her! I've always wanted to be French!"

"Great," Pam rolled her eyes. "Just what you need. Another personality."

"Okay," Cyril said. "We have a plan. You guys round up some guests."

"Why didn't you ask me if I knew anyone?" Lana snapped.

" **Do** you know **anyone?** " Cyril snapped. "Keep in mind that **we know** that most of the people you know are in **this room**!"

"I know people!" Lana protested. "I mean, not in LA but…"

"Ugh, Lana, Lana, Lana…" Pam groaned.

"It's like…" Cheryl groaned.

"I know…" Ray nodded.

"I'm guessing we're not telling Mallory about this?" Lana grumbled.

"Do you really want her at this party?" Cyril asked.

"No!" Cheryl said. "She can be such a downer."

"Plus, she'd want a cut," Ray added.

"Okay so let's put on the best damn pot part we can!" Cyril said. "And Lana since you're doing nothing…I want you to help Pam with the cooking!"

"I could use a sous chef," Pam grinned.

"Why is everyone picking on **me** today?" Lana snapped.

"Why not?" Cheryl quipped.

"I thought I was **done** with the whole stupid drug thing," Lana groaned. "Every time I think I'm out, they pull me back in!"

Two nights later at a very nice mini mansion in Malibu…

"How many places does Cheryl own?" Lana asked as she helped Pam in the kitchen. She was wearing a chef's hat and coat over her clothes.

"Since she's a freaking billionaire," Pam remarked as she put a tray laden with goodies in the oven. "A buttload. I think like her company owns a quarter of the property in America."

"Well it is a nice house," Ray said. He was wearing an old-time bartender's outfit.

"Nice outfit," Pam quipped. "You look like you're ready to work part time at Miss Kitty's Saloon."

"I'm bartending," Ray said. "That's the style. Old time steampunk chic. Since Krieger is hosting this thing…"

"Krieger is hosting the party?" Lana asked.

"It's his product we're plugging," Ray shrugged.

"Good thing we decided to go buffet style," Pam fixed up the meals. "Okay here's the menu. Dandelion/arugula salad with Mowie Wowie dressing, Pam's Pot Stickers…Which have pot as the seasoning in the pork sausage. Wild Wacky Wings, Barley Street Legal Tacos, Potato and Pot Salad, Humming Hummus dip with vegetables, Melon Ballers, Jalapeno Poppers with Pot, Spring Loaded Rolls and last but not least…Mini Marijuana Meatloaf!"

"And all this food has pot in it?" Cheryl asked as she walked in. She was wearing a fancy red dress with a red necklace.

"Except the Mellon Ballers," Pam said. "Those are in a Mai Tai sauce."

"Good to see you're holding back," Ray quipped. "What about dessert?"

"The candy Krieger's selling **is** dessert, A.A. Gill!" Pam looked at him.

"Ohhhh," Cheryl nodded. "So, candy is a dessert now? Good to know!"

"I can't believe this is a thing," Lana said.

"It's a thing," Ray nodded. "There are even several cooking shows devoted to cooking with pot."

"So, go easy on the sampling Lana," Pam warned. "I made a lot but I want to make sure the guests have plenty."

"Trust me Pam," Lana said. "The **last** thing I want to do is get high. I have a child…"

"Oh my God!" Cheryl rolled her eyes. "That is like your excuse for **everything!"**

"Yeah like that's not getting old," Ray groaned.

"I've got the piñata," Krieger walked in with a large piñata of a colorful red macaw. He was dressed up in some old-fashioned clothes that looked more in tune with a 1930's bartender.

"What the hell is the piñata for?" Lana asked.

"Don't you know **anything** about Pot Parties?" Pam asked.

"She asked clearly stating the obvious," Cheryl mocked.

"Pot Piñatas are all the rage now," Pam said.

"I can't believe this is a thing," Lana was stunned.

"Oh, it's a thing all right," Krieger nodded. "And I've filled this baby to the brim with enough pot candy to make Willy Wonka think he's an Oompa Loompa."

"Well that's good," Cyril walked in wearing a similar outfit to Ray's. "So what time are your guests arriving?"

"Uh…" Ray paused.

"They're not," Krieger said.

"What do you mean your people aren't coming?" Cyril shouted at Ray and Krieger.

"It's not my fault," Ray said. "An emergency came up!"

"What emergency?" Pam snapped. "They suddenly got tickets to a Madonna concert?"

"No," Ray paused. "Liza Minelli concert."

"And it's not my fault my guests couldn't come either," Krieger said.

"Why?" Cyril asked.

"Because I didn't invite them," Krieger winced. "I sort of forgot during all the preparations…"

"Oh, for crying out loud…" Cyril groaned. "So basically, only Cheryl and Pam's people are coming."

"Phrasing," Pam snickered. "So? That just means there's more food for everyone."

"How many people did you invite Pam?" Lana asked.

"Just one," Pam said. "But I said he could bring a friend or two."

"ONLY ONE?" Cyril shouted.

"That's **one more** than most of you have!" Pam snapped.

"This party's already off to a rousing success," Lana groaned.

"Chillax Cyril," Cheryl waved. "I must have called a ton of people yesterday. We'll be fine."

"A ton?" Cyril asked. "Define a ton."

"I don't know," Cheryl shrugged. "Four. Or five."

"To be fair," Pam said. "For Cheryl that is a lot."

"Yes," Cheryl said. "Well technically I didn't actually call **all** of them. I just called three or four and told them to pass the message on."

"Three or four?" Cyril shouted.

"Definitely not a ton," Lana groaned.

"Depends on how fat they are," Cheryl said. "I definitely remember calling at least **two** of them before taking a glue break. But I only got their answering machines."

"Did they call back?" Lana sighed. "I ask knowing the answer is no."

"More like I'm not sure," Cheryl blinked.

"In other words," Ray groaned. "We may be the only pot party in California that **nobody** is coming to!"

"You mean I made all this food for nothing?" Pam snapped. "Aw man…"

Just then the doorbell rang. "Oh, thank God!" Cyril sighed. "I'll get the door!" He left the room.

"See?" Cheryl said. "Somebody's coming! Phrasing boom!"

"Good," Pam said. "Because I hate to see all this food go to waste. Not to mention the pot."

"Yeah, that's the worry you should have with all this," Lana groaned.

"Hey gang," Ron walked in with a familiar looking sixty something woman on his arm.

"Ron! Glad you could make it!" Pam waved.

" **Ron** is your guest?" Lana was surprised.

"Why not?" Ron asked. "Mallory's not here. She isn't here is she?"

"Are you kidding?" Pam snorted. "Like we'd let her near this."

"Good," Samantha frowned. "Because I still haven't forgiven that bitch for attacking me."

"Guys you know my date," Ron introduced the woman. "Samantha Depardieu."

"Ron you actually came to a pot party?" Lana was stunned.

"Well Samantha takes some minor medicinal herb," Ron explained.

"For my minor glaucoma," Samantha said.

"Well you're in luck," Pam grinned. "Because I have some of the best pot infused food around!"

Meanwhile the doorbell rang again. Cyril went to answer it. At the door was a stunning woman in her thirties with long red hair and an expensive green dress with a green necklace. "Hello?"

"I'm here for the party," The woman smiled speaking in a light French accent.

"Oh, come on in," Cyril motioned.

"I'd like to meet the hostess," The woman said.

"Of course," Cyril said. "Right this way. Uh…Celestina…We have a guest." She followed Cyril into the kitchen.

"Welcome! Welcome!" Cheryl's voice went higher. "I am Celestina! Ha! HA! HA!"

"Hello Cheryl," The woman said. "I should have known **you** were behind this."

"Celestina?!" Cheryl gasped. "But you're **dead!** "

"No, that's just a rumor I spread so I wouldn't have to go to funerals," Celestina said. "I find them to be such downers. Except for yours. I'm looking forward to **that one."**

"Hang on!" Lana spoke up. "This is your **dead cousin** Celestina?"

"The rumors of my death are greatly exaggerated," Celestina said.

"How did you find out about me pretending to be you?" Cheryl asked.

"Couple things," Celestina said. "First, if you're going to pretend to be someone else…You don't call them and invite them to your party!"

"I didn't call you," Cheryl said. "I remember calling other people."

"And leaving messages on **answering machines**?" Celestina asked. "Like Mrs. Van Fogle?"

"Yeah, I called her," Cheryl nodded.

"THAT'S **ME** YOU ADDLE BRAINED IDIOT!" Celestina snapped. "I still have the name I took from my husband! You were there at our wedding! Where you banged the best man in the coat room!"

"Oh right," Cheryl blinked. "How is Vance anyway?"

"Still dead," Celestina told her. "And secondly, this is very helpful. If you are going to throw a party pretending to be someone else…YOU DON'T THROW IT IN THEIR OWN HOUSE!"

"Ohhhh…" Cheryl blinked. "Well **that** makes sense."

"Hang on!" Lana spoke up. "Cheryl this is your **cousin's house**? I thought you said this was one of the homes your real estate company owns?"

"Well I did put it up for sale," Celestina explained. "Using our agency. Imagine my surprise when my realtor informed me my dear cousin wanted some information on it so she could throw some kind of party in it!"

"Oh, which cousin is that?" Cheryl blinked.

"She's been hitting the glue again, hasn't she?" Celestina looked at the others.

"That would imply she **stopped** at one point," Ray remarked.

"So, you're Celestina Tunt? I mean…" Cyril paused. "Van Fogle?"

"Technically I'm a Tuntington West Smythe," Celestina explained. "Let's just say our branch of the family tree doesn't look like a telephone pole."

"You're a telephone pole!" Cheryl snapped.

"Look," Celestina sighed. "The rest of you seem like…Somewhat normal people. And it wouldn't be the first time someone from the Tunt side of the family tricked other people, so here's what I am prepared to do. Just leave the food and everything here. And I won't call the cops."

"Are you saying we get **nothing** for all our work?" Pam was stunned.

"You get to **not** get arrested for trespassing," Celestina gave her a look. "As for your payment take it up with Princess Cariboo over here."

"Thanks a lot Cheryl!" Ray snapped as the others grabbed their coats and things and prepared to leave.

"Yes, thank you, Cheryl," Celestina snapped. "Now I'm going to throw a **real party** in my house!"

"With our food," Pam grumbled.

"Just shut up and go," Cyril groaned.

"What about my piñata?" Krieger asked.

"Leave it!" Lana told him. "Leave it!"

"Aw man," Krieger groaned as they left.

Celestina looked at the piñata. "I have no words. No words…Oh yes I do. My cousin is a lunatic!"

"Well that was a complete and total bust!" Ray said as they left the house. "Now what?"

"I'm hungry," Pam said. "I say we all go to a diner and eat. And Cheryl pays."

"Why do I have to pay?" Cheryl asked.

"You **know** why!" Pam snapped.

"Yeah I do," Cheryl shrugged.

"I could eat," Ron said.

"Might as well," Lana sighed.

"We could make a night of it," Samantha suggested. "I know this great little diner."

"Roscoe's that's a great place," Ron nodded.

"Honestly it's better than sitting home alone and crying," Cyril groaned.

The following morning at the Figgis Agency, the gang had yet another meeting in the bullpen.

"I don't know what you're all so upset about," Cheryl shrugged as she drank some coffee in the bullpen. "We had a good time. We had dinner out."

"And we didn't even get into a fight," Pam added. "Even when Scrooge McCrazy over here didn't have any money to pay the bill and we had to split it!"

"You are so paying me back," Ray pointed to Cheryl. "But I have to admit, despite being thrown out and our latest scheme blowing up in our face, the night lacked the normal level of chaos, mayhem and death."

"I wouldn't call it a scheme," Cyril said.

"I would," Lana said.

"Ron's new girlfriend is lovely," Cheryl said. "So much nicer than Ms. Archer. And she didn't threaten to commit me to an institution all night!"

"I like Samantha," Pam said. "She's sassy!"

"And not homophobic at all," Ray said. "Well if she is she sure hides it well…"

"And she knows German!" Krieger said. "She grew up in Germany on an army base in her teens. What a fascinating lady."

"I'm glad you had such a **good time,"** Cyril said sarcastically. "Because that may have been your last meal!"

"I highly doubt it," Cheryl waved.

"I think it's obvious Cyril that the whole pot party was a **bad idea** ," Lana said.

"Technically the bad idea was letting Cheryl help plan it," Krieger spoke up. "The product was good!"

"And so was the food!" Pam said. "I wonder how Celestina liked it?"

"Figures that bitch and her snooty friends were enjoying our stuff," Cheryl grumbled. "This is just like summer camp all over again. Only I'm not covered in poison ivy."

"Cheryl did you mention that we were throwing a pot party?" Ray realized something.

"Oh, I **knew** there was something I forgot to mention!" Cheryl lightly whacked her forehead. "Silly me."

"We didn't say it either," Lana realized. "Which means…"

"Uh oh," Ray blinked.

"You don't think anything happened, did you?" Cyril said.

"Did anyone check the news this morning?" Pam asked.

"No," Lana said. "Should we check the news?"

"No," Cyril groaned. "I'd like to stay in blissful ignorance for a while."

"It is such a fun thing isn't it?" Cheryl asked.

"Okay…I'm going to check the computer…" Pam went to her computer. "If anything happens the news feed will have something."

"You don't think…" Cyril paused. "Maybe nothing serious happened? I mean what are the odds…"

"Found it," Pam saw something. "Malibu Pot Party Gone Wild…"

"One to one," Lana groaned. "What happened?"

"According to this the cops were called in to Celestina's house at one in the morning on reports of loud music," Pam said. "To find twenty-three people naked and stoned out of their gourds."

"Of course, they were," Lana groaned.

Pam read on. "One of the guests was the actor Blaine Bainbridge who was found trying to have sex with a lawn chair. He was arrested for punching a cop and trying to sexually assault him."

"Sounds like a fun party," Ray smirked.

"Police arrested several high society women for streaking," Pam went on. "Disturbing the peace…Bubble bath suds covering the floors and filling the pool. One drunk driver got into his car and drove into the foyer…Oh here we go. The owner of the house and host of the party Celestina Van Fogle was found naked on the roof, screaming ' _This is my party! I made this happen! It's all me! Me! Me! Me!'"_

"That sounds like Celestina," Cheryl remarked. "She takes credit for everything. Even when we were babies she'd try to take credit for the boom booms she made in her diapers by switching them out with the rest of us."

"Eww…." Lana winced. "Just…Eww…"

"Huh," Krieger blinked. "I wonder if the candy infused with Krieger Valley wine played a part in this."

"You made the candy with **Krieger Valley wine** as well as pot?" Ray shouted. "Were you trying to kill everyone?"

"That explains this next part," Pam read, her eyes widening. "Mrs. Van Fogle then proclaimed that she could fly…And jumped off the roof before the police could get to her. She died instantly when she fell on a statue with a metal trident!"

"In hindsight I should have realized that the combination of my candy, the pot and the wine would have adverse effects," Krieger blinked. "Not to mention the groovy bears I threw in the piñata."

"You put those LSD gummies in the piñata?" Cyril snapped.

"Those aren't for lightweights!" Pam snapped. "Which Celestina obviously was…"

"Well she's definitely dead now," Cheryl snickered. "Goodbye vineyard in France! HA! Jokes on those dumb villagers, the only thing that farm produces is weeds. And not the good kind!"

" **There's** the chaos, mayhem and **death!** " Ray groaned. "Anything else Pam?"

"The good news is the cops have pinned the whole thing on Cheryl's dead cousin," Pam said. "And there's not going to be an investigation. Mostly because she confessed before…You know? Took a swan dive off the roof."

"Well that's something at least," Lana groaned. "I think this is a clear sign that party planning is **not** the way to go for this agency!"

"So now what do we do?" Krieger asked.

"I have a new plan," Pam said. "We make money in illegal online Pokémon battles."

"I can't believe that's our best shot," Cyril groaned. "On second thought, **yes I can**!"


End file.
